


Out of Reach

by surreysmum



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surreysmum/pseuds/surreysmum
Summary: Aragorn and Gollum find unexpected common ground. Prompt ficlet in response to the prompt "hand".





	Out of Reach

Title: Out of Reach  
Author: surreysmum  
Pairing: A/L  
Rating: G  
A/N: In reponse to the prompt word "Hand"

**Out of Reach**

Frodo slept restlessly. The awful gloom of the Mines of Moria was bad enough, but the Ring he bore invaded his dreams with troubling visions of fire and steel and crumbling towers. Nonetheless, he was completely unaware of the elongated, skeletal fingers that approached his throat, creeping their way towards the tempting circlet of gold that glowed slightly in the blackness.

Carefully the long fingernails edged aside Frodo's shirt at his throat and started to insinuate themselves, oh so sneakily, under the chain that held the Ring. All of a sudden a warm and weathered hand gripped the bony wrist and yanked its owner away from the sleeping Hobbit.

"Pleassse, sssir, pleasssse kind massster," whined Gollum to the Ranger. "Do not kill poor SSSmeagol!" Gandalf's staff illuminated faintly, but the Wizard, seeing Aragorn had the situation well in hand, simply nodded and settled back against the wall.

Aragorn pulled the disgusting creature a little away from the rest of the Fellowship, for they desperately needed their rest. "I will not kill you," he said in a low, contemptuous voice. "This time. But you must cease following us; you must go far away and leave us alone, or you may not be so lucky next time!"

"Give usss the preciousss, kind masster," begged Gollum. "Give us the preciousss and we promisse not to bother you ever, ever, any more."

"It does not belong to you," retorted Aragorn sharply.

"Doess not belong to _him…_ " 

"No, it does not. And he is going to put it where it can never do anyone any harm again."

"No, no, no!" The creature wept, and pounded its bony fist against the unmoved Ranger. "I neeedssss it, masster! I needss it so bad it hurtsss. It hurtsss insside, alwayss, alwayss hurting, alwayss needing."

"I know it," responded Aragorn, more gently than might be expected. "What cannot be cured must be endured, Smeagol. Even the hurting, even the needing." He loosed his grip around Gollum's wrist, and knowing that the creature could see him even in that black place, he placed his hand meaningfully upon his sword. "Now run! And do not come back!" Before he finished speaking, Gollum was gone.

With a quiet sigh, Aragorn settled himself back against the cave wall near Frodo. For a second, his hand drifted to the other side, seeking to touch despite himself, but he caught it back in time, and hissed in disgust. Now more than ever, he was resolved to do the right thing. _What cannot be cured must be endured… Even the hurting, even the needing…_ And for the thousandth time on that journey, he resolved he would never, never tell the Elf. 

_finis_

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